“There are only three places I can see where you haven’t displayed courage,” Tatina said. “You know the first. We’ve talked about it before. The second is making what peace you can with Elena. And the third is finishing this new business so that nobody else in Mexicantown gets hurt.” Sitting near her, I felt stronger. Listening to her, I felt forgiveness. “We are the outsiders, my love. The half-breeds who embrace our anomalies. Our curious histories and unique abilities. The legacy of duty we have inherited down generations. What you feel right now, August, is what every outsider feels from time to time: the weight of having cared too much for a world that cares so little. In these times we crave warm shadows. But you know as well as I—the shadows are not where we belong. They are not our destiny.”

After a moment of looking into her eyes, I said, “How’d I get so lucky?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” she said with a smile. “However, my standards must be slipping.”

“Think I can get you into bed if I feed you?”

“All I’ve had in the past seventeen hours is a grisly piece of bratwurst with pickled pearl onions and a glass of vinaigrette salad dressing masquerading as a cabernet,” she said. “You could get me into bed with a cheeseburger, small fries and a Coke.”

“Wow,” I said. “I think my luck’s about to change.”

After ten well-stuffed and brightly decorated soft-shell tacos at Taqueria El Rey (me six, Tatina four) and two soul-satisfying margaritas (me zero, Tatina two), it was easy to see she was fading. Still, she insisted we end the evening with a visit to Elena.

“She’s probably not home from the hospital,” I tried lamely.

“Avoidance isn’t an answer,” Tatina said. “She’s your godmother. I was never so blessed.”

“You’re pretty good at this laying-out-guilt thing, aren’t you?”

“I have a doctorate, love.”

Much to my disappointment, Elena was home. She was wearing Tomás’s huge purple-and-burgundy Everlast satin boxing robe, his name emblazoned on the back. She’d given the robe to him several Christmases ago, and a morning rarely saw him without it. He’d even worn it flipping hamburgers and turning hot dogs at backyard barbeques. The robe nearly swallowed her whole.

“Tatina!” Elena said as the two women embraced.

Elena looked haggard and exhausted. Her eyes were darkly circled, bloodshot and sunken.

She came out of her embrace with Tatina, looked at me, then hugged me tightly and wept into my chest. I held her and kissed the crown of her head. In her hair, she had carried home the scent of sterilized hospital hallways and recently administered pharmaceuticals.

I apologized profusely for everything.

Elena apologized for blaming me for Tomás’s injuries.